Obsession
by itsvegebulsoup
Summary: After going to a strip club for a friend's birthday, Bulma becomes fixated on the star of the show. Human AU. Yandere/Stalker Bulma Stripper Vegeta. OOC. Absolute Crack Fic. Cringe Warning. The Prince & The Heiress 2019 Smutfest.
1. Day 1: Gooseflesh Skin

Bulma stood from her seat at the end of the table and ran a hand down her side to smooth the wrinkles out of her tight, satin party dress before she picked up her martini. She cleared her throat to gain the attention of the others at the table then raised her glass to toast the birthday girl.

Bulma began, speaking loud enough to be heard over the music playing, "to Chi Chi, we're all so excited to be here to celebrate your 30th birthday! I wish you success and happiness in the year to come!"

The other women seated at the table chattered in agreement clinking their glasses and wishing Chi Chi a happy day. Bulma took a seat and allowed herself a satisfied smile. Her best friend duties were fulfilled, Chi Chi looked overjoyed at her birthday celebration so far.

Bulma had spent weeks planning the perfect surprise, contacting Chi Chi's former sorority sisters and coworkers to invite them, and booking a private room in one of the trendiest, new restaurants in West City. The cocktails were pricey, but when the waiters brought out a birthday cupcake with sparklers shooting out of it, the delight on her best friend's face made it all seem worth it.

"Thanks Bulma," Lazuli began as she stood up and looked at Chi Chi. "But your birthday party isn't over yet! There's a party bus outside ready to take us to Temptations!"

Chi Chi blushed and covered her mouth as she mumbled 'oh my', and the other girls at the table giggled in excitement. Well, all except for Bulma, who's smile flattened.

The three girls were all great friends, and had been for quite some time. So Bulma really should've expected that Lazuli would try to outdo her when it came to the birthday party they cohosted for Chi Chi.

Temptations was an infamous male strip club in the city, boasting some of the hottest acts and hottest abs. Bulma had never been, secretly thinking she was much too classy and sophisticated to throw her hard earned money at a half naked man flopping his junk around, but everyone else seemed excited so she played along.

After downing the last of her drink and paying the check, Bulma and the other party guests filed out of the restaurant. Lazuli stood at the door of the party bus welcoming everyone on and passing out feather boas and beaded necklaces with shot glasses hanging on them.

"Now let's get your real Dirty Thirty pumping!" Lazuli winked at Chi Chi as she ushered her onto the bus. The party bus was lined with leather benches and glowing neon lights that transitioned from blue to purple to pink. At the end of the walkway was a shiny stripper pole, and after the handful of cocktails at dinner everyone thought they were a pro at dancing on it.

On the twenty minute ride to the strip club, the girls all danced and screamed the lyrics to the music blasting through the bus. All while passing around another bottle of fruity liquor, each taking a hearty swig when the bottle landed in their hand.

Once they reached their destination, the drunken posse staggered out of the bus and into Temptations. A large imposing bouncer with a bald head stamped each girl's hand and wished them a good time. After a few steps through a dark tunnel, the girls emerged into the main room of the club. Bulma found herself surprised how nice the interior looked.

The back walls lined with private booths with velvet couches and sheer curtains for some semblance of privacy. The center of the room was filled with low cocktail tables surrounded by four chairs a piece. At the front of the room was a large stage with a cat walk protruding from the center. Off of the main room were smaller performance areas and private rooms.

The group split up all going their own ways, to the bar, ATM, or one of the smaller rooms. Bulma stayed glued to Chi Chi and Lazuli. The trio made their way to one of the front most tables to watch the performances on the main stage. A cute, dark purple haired waitress approached the table and took their drink orders.

Chi Chi's eyes roamed around the room, before she let out a little laugh and captured the two girls in a group hug. "You two are seriously the best friends a girl could ask for! Thank you so much for tonight! I'm so spoiled!"

"You deserve it!" Bulma replied squeezing her friend even tighter.

"Yeah, you're the best Chi!" Lazuli agreed.

As the waitress delivered their drinks, the already dim house lights went completely dark. A deep voice over the speaker system announced the next performer and the curtains drew open as the stage lit up.

He walked into view and was greeted by applause and hoots from the female patrons. As Bulma watched the tall, muscular man perform his routine, she began to understand the appeal of the place. Many women gathered at the edges of the stage waving dollar bills to get his attention.

He graced each of them with a moment of his attention, before they lost their money. Bulma wanted to laugh at them, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't aroused by his dirty dancing.

Bulma's attention on the performance waned as she tried to remember the last time she got laid. Had it really been months? She hadn't been with anyone since her tragically dramatic breakup with her long time boyfriend, Yamcha. Bulma scoffed thinking about Yamcha's lackluster lovemaking, he definitely couldn't move like this guy.

She glanced curiously over to her friends just in time to catch Chi Chi licking her lips. Her big brown eyes glued to the hunky man on stage. He was handsome in an unassuming kind of way, definitely her type.

Bulma was about to lean over and encourage Chi Chi to go up to the stage and give him some money, but the song concluded and the performer retreated backstage with dollar bills hanging out of his tight briefs.

"You having fun?" Bulma laughed as Chi Chi continued to stare at the empty stage.

"What?" she replied with a shake of her head snapping out of her trance. "I mean yeah, this is a blast!" Lazuli snickered at the birthday girl's expense then asked the waitress for another round.

The friends continued to drink, laugh, and gossip until the next performance began. Same as before, the house lights went out and the the deep voice announced the final performance of the night, "The Prince".

Bulma raised her eyebrows in surprise at the crowd's riotous reaction to the performer's name. She concluded he must be a fan favorite.

This time when the curtain opened, fog crawled out and spilled off the stage. A single spotlight shone down on a hooded figure standing at center stage. He wasn't particularly tall but his sweatshirt stretched across broad shoulders hinting at the muscles underneath.

The thumping music was loud, but still nearly drown out by the screams and applause of excitable women. The Prince strolled down stage before flipping off his hood to reveal his face.

His sharp jawline and high cheekbones lent to a devilishly handsome face. His thick brows curved down giving him an air of danger, but it was his arrogant smirk that really caught Bulma's attention.

The way he moved, dancing in time to the music, looked so effortless. With each article of clothing removed The Prince was rewarded with cheers from his captive audience. Bulma was in a trance, her eyes devoured every inch of his exposed skin.

She felt her breath catch in her throat when his lusty black eyes locked with hers. She waited and waited for him to turn away, but he never did. He continued dancing and Bulma couldn't help but picture herself bent over and on the receiving end of his thrusting hips.

She didn't dare look away, his presence commanded her full attention. Her heart pounded in her chest as he kept eye contact with her and sauntered down the end of the catwalk like a predatory panther. He was danger, grace, and just raw fucking sex appeal.

Bulma waited for him to stop at the end of the stage, expecting some impressive, show stopping move, but he didn't stop. Instead, he hopped off the edge of the stage and continued his path toward her. A spotlight followed him into the dark and she was sure all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room because she couldn't breathe anymore.

Each sultry step brought him closer to her, and it seemed the other sounds in the room, the cheering women even the music he was dancing to, dulled the closer he got. Bulma gasped suddenly when a second spotlight shined above her, making her feel completely exposed and vulnerable.

She swallowed harshly as he stood directly in front of her. Gods, he was even better looking up close. She wanted to feel the ridges of his muscled chest, but she was frozen in place. He leaned over and grabbed the back and seat, effectively trapping her in her chair.

His head snaked down, his lips ghosted over her chest and her eyes fluttered closed as he softly dragged his nose up the curve of her neck. His dark, sultry gaze combined with his overwhelming presence sent a throbbing need between her thighs.

"How about you come up on stage with me." Bulma enjoyed the sound of his velvety voice, but her eyes flew open as her brain registered his words.

She opened her mouth to protest, but a yelp escape her lips instead as he picked her up, chair and all. When he set her on stage, Bulma remembered there was dozens of people in the room, and their eyes were all on her. On them.

At first she was embarrassed, but when he began dancing directly on her all thoughts not about him vanished. The women in the crowd continued to hoot and holler, one even yelled "lucky bitch!"

Every movement of his body was so deliberate and suggestive, she couldn't help but picture what he was capable of in the bedroom. Bulma closed her eyes imagining they were somewhere a little more private as he leaned in close. His cheek brushed against hers as he whispered in her ear, "You can touch me if you want."

His hot breath against her skin gave her goosebumps all over her body, and for the first time Bulma realized she was gripping the edges of her chair rather tightly.

Tentatively, she loosened her grip on the chair and then her metaphorical grip on her control. Her hands reached out and grazed over his svelte waist before wrapping around to grab his muscled ass. Talk about buns of steel.

She looked up as if to confirm it was okay to touch him there, but he smirked back at her clearly amused that was her first choice. The Prince was grinding his hips so, so close to hers she swore she could feel the evidence of his own arousal.

It gave her a foreign sense of pride to know that he, too, was turned on by her. Bulma used her grip on his backside to pull him even closer, and he obliged.

He was practically fucking her on stage for the entire crowd to see and she didn't care one bit. In fact, she had never resented her clothing more than in that moment. Bulma wished to feel his muscled physique pressed against her in the throes of passion.

All to soon, The Prince seem to slow his movements and she realized the song was coming to an end. He disappeared behind her a moment, then was startled when her chair tipped back on to two legs. He began dragging her backwards offstage, and Bulma's mind ran wild at the what might come next.


	2. Day 2: Quaking Body

After dragging her offstage, The Prince righted her chair back on to four legs. Bulma took a few deep breaths to center herself. Holy shit, that performance was hot. What was it about being the envy of an entire room full of women that got her so damn wet?

She looked up to find The Prince staring at her expectantly, but Bulma wasn't sure what he wanted... money? praise? to take her back to his dressing room and have his way with her?

A few awkward moments passed before he offered her his hand. She took it and savored the way his warm hand captured hers. The Prince pulled her up to stand and reached behind her to grab her chair and pass it to a nearby stagehand.

Oh. He wanted her chair.

He started leading her away, one of his palms rested lightly on the small of her back. Her heart rate quickened at the feeling of his touch, and she found herself wishing to feel that touch all over her smooth skin. Blue eyes gazed at him longingly, paying no mind to where The Prince was taking her.

Up close, Bulma was able to admire his sharp, masculine facial features, and resolved that she definitely wanted to have sex with him. Hell, she practically already did on stage. The thought pulled her lips into a mischievous grin.

"Thanks for being such a great participant, if you talk to Tien at the bar he'll get you a free t-shirt," The Prince said. Bulma's smile faded, the line sounded rehearsed and lacked the sultry undertone his voice onstage had.

He passed her to one of the security guards who escorted her back to the main room. She turned her head to watch The Prince be given a robe by another stagehand, they caught eyes one last time and he smirked.

Bulma stood outside the stage exit, her stomach was doing flips as she tried to assign meaning to every tiny thing The Prince did. He was definitely into her, that much was clear. Their connection was palpable, electric even, she wouldn't be surprised if everyone else in the room felt it too. It's not like you can fake something like that.

Her legs were still quaking as she made her way towards the bar. To steady herself, Bulma leaned against the smooth dark counter and waved, asking for Tien. The bald man nodded at her in greeting before recognizing her as the girl who had just been on stage, and gestured for her to follow.

He led her past the booze lined shelves of the bar and pointed to a display with the selection of t-shirts pinned to the wall, asking for her preference. Bulma eyed her options, many of which had the Temptations logo in various colors or silly sayings. "Maybe that one," Tien suggesting point to a shirt with a small crown on it.

It was a light pink shirt and in black writing read, 'Fuck a knight in shining armor, give me THE PRINCE'. Bulma smiled and nodded. Tien rummaged through a box under the shelf, "Sorry we only have XL."

"I'll take it!" Bulma replied without hesitation. He handed over the shirt and she hugged it tightly to her chest. It would serve as a memento of the night they first met.

Bulma approached the table where her friends were seated wearing the oversized t-shirt over her party dress. With the excitement waning she began to feel tired and plopped back into a chair before Lazuli and Chi Chi applauded her.

"Wow, Bulma, you're so lucky!" Chi Chi squealed. "That Prince guy was super sexy."

Bulma sighed, "you guys, I really feel like we had a connection. I mean, like when we locked eyes… it just... it felt so real."

"I think that's your vagina talking," Lazuli laughed as she polished of the last of her cocktail.

Bulma squirmed uncomfortably, thinking about the aching need between her thighs. "I'm not joking! I think we have something!"

"Did he give you his number?" Chi Chi asked excitedly.

"...well...no..."

"Bulma, he's a performer, his entire job is to create a fantasy to get you hot and bothered," Lazuli reasoned. "It's just for fun, don't think too hard about it."

Her friends just didn't understand. They didn't experience what she had, they didn't feel the electricity between her and The Prince. He noticed her in a crowd of so many women, all screaming and begging for his attention, he picked _her_.

Bulma stayed quiet after that, and it wasn't long until their other friends from dinner reappeared. There weren't anymore performances on the main stage and everyone seemed pretty partied out and ready to leave.

Once she made it back to her apartment, she kicked off her shoes and slipped out of her satin party dress. Sitting at her vanity, Bulma went through the motions of her nightly routine. She removed her makeup and smeared her moisturizer across her face then began the task of brushing out her unruly hair. The brush slid through her blue tresses and Bulma was taken to a place where instead of the bristles of the brush sliding through her hair, it was the nimble fingers of The Prince.

Her eyes closed and she relished in the fantasy of his hands groping the back of her neck, fingers brushing through her hair and nails grazing her scalp. His mouth would be hot, a heavy kiss would devour her mouth.

Bulma opened her eyes and bit her lip as she forced herself to continue her evening ritual. She placed her brush down and imagined strong arms pulling her toward her bed as she plopped underneath her covers. Enveloped in silky sheets, Bulma remembered the light pressure of The Prince's body as he rocked his hips against hers, making her core ache. She turned over, begging sleep take her and after long minutes trapped in her thoughts of thrusting hips and hungry kisses she rolled to the other side.

Sleep was evading Bulma. Her mind whirling from the evening's events and body reeling with a need that only The Prince could satisfy.

She shut her eyes to meet his sultry gaze once more, feel his hot breath caress her face as his body moved over and against hers. Her hands found purchase on her own skin thinking about all the delicious things The Prince would do to her. He would use his mouth on her neck, her palm feeling where his lips would burn her skin.

Sliding up the hem of her shirt, he would expose her naked form to his hungry gaze. His eager hands would explore her curves, leaving a blaze where they made contact. His mouth would descend to her chest and tease her nipples. Her fingers pinched each one as his mouth nipped and sucked her tender flesh, before trailing wet kisses down the expanse of her stomach.

A soft moan escaped her mouth as one hand dipped below her panties tracing over the tuft of hair at the edge of her slit. His tongue would tease her lips before diving in to taste her essence. Fingers slick with her arousal, she began a slow assault on her clit the way The Prince's tongue would. He would drive her wild as he placed his attention on her throbbing nub in quick desperate flicks of his tongue.

Bulma sighed as her own ministrations brought her closer to the edge, but she knew The Prince would want more.

She pulled a pillow on top of herself, wanting the feel of his weight on her body. Her legs spread to accommodate his length as she pressed three fingers (he **was** well endowed afterall) into her warmth. As a true gentleman would, The Prince gave Bulma a moment to adjust to such an invasion and after a moment, began to move within her, relishing the stretch over his length. Bulma began to pump her fingers faster as she fucked herself with the same fervor she imagined he would.

Her breathing was erratic, toes curling as the assault on her body reached its long awaited climax. Loud moans echoed in the night as Bulma came hard on her fingers. The Prince would feel satisfied that she came first, and would fuck her throughout each gratifying wave of her orgasm before succumbing to the euphoria of his own release.

Holding him close one more moment, Bulma laid in the exhausted intoxication of her climax. Eyes closed, running her fingers up and down the pillow, imagining the way The Prince would kiss her neck and whisper sweet nothings in her ear. She rolled over to rest on her pillow Prince, and her body throbbed pleasantly as she drifted into a satisfied slumber.


	3. Day 3: Musky Scent

At first it was her guilty pleasure, her dirty little secret, but she wasn't sure she could call it that anymore. Now it was more like a habit, a normal part of her routine. Bulma had been showing up at Temptations every night The Prince performed for the last three weeks.

But worse, even outside of the strip club, all her thoughts were consumed by him. The wide expanse of his muscular chest, the smoldering look in his dark eyes and his devilish smirk that hinted at salacious intent. Bulma would find herself doodling pictures of his signature flame shaped hair and brooding expressions in the margins of her notes. Her daydreams were the worst during boring work meetings.

At night she'd lay awake, imagining the two of them in some alternative universe where she was a brilliant spacefaring scientist and he a handsome alien prince. He would be charmed by her wits and dazzling beauty, and out of all the women in the universe, he would find himself drawn only to her.

She spent a gross amount of time on the internet looking at pictures and watching videos of The Prince, until she had practically memorized his routines. Bulma considered starting a blog that featured her findings, but decided against it. She didn't want other women ogling her man, but seemed to contradict herself with the desire to have others to acknowledge him as the best. She vigorously debated his merit in chat rooms that discussed all the dancers at Temptations. Any bias that wasn't for The Prince, Bulma found completely unjustifiable.

In the weeks she had been frequenting Temptations, Bulma had yearned for him to notice her again. When his eyes didn't naturally gravitate to her as they did the first night, she resorted to spending an absurd amount of money. She was practically throwing handfuls of cash at him in hopes of garnering his attention. Bulma desperately wanted him to dance with her again and to feel his firm body pressed against hers.

He would sometimes spare a flirty wink in her direction but he seemed afraid to openly admit that they had a special something between them. She tried to forgive The Prince. Bulma figured if all his fans knew that he was involved, they might not be so generous in their tips. She decided she could keep their secret if that's what he wanted.

It was another night spent at a high class strip club, and Bulma was lucky enough to grab a front table. While she waited for The Prince to come out, she drank a few cocktails and applauded politely at the other performers. They really were talented they just didn't compare to The Prince. His presence felt magnetic, when he was on stage it was like nothing else mattered.

Bulma excitedly scooted to the edge of her seat when the lights went dim and the announcer's voice introduced The Prince as the final act of the night. He strolled out onto the stage, and his silhouette struck an authoritative pose. The music rang throughout the room and Bulma smiled, recognizing it as a routine she had watched online.

When the spotlights landed on The Prince, he was dressed as a sexy police officer, even wearing aviator sunglasses. He began his routine, suggestively moving to the music. The crowd erupted, screaming and clapping, when he ripped open his shirt to reveal tan, godly abs.

Bulma sighed as she admired the perfection that was The Prince's body, when her gaze was drawn to something metallic that reflected the stage lights. Bulma eyed the handcuffs that were attached to his belt as her mind teased her with images of her bound and at his mercy. He would ravish her body with his rough hands and her skin tingled at the thought.

A excited squeal brought Bulma out of her fantasy and she realized The Prince had fully removed his shirt and was tossing it into the crowd of titillated women. She jumped from her seat eager to catch the article of clothing, even willing to elbow a bitch if that's what it took.

As if in slow motion, the garment landed in Bulma's hands like he had thrown it to her intentionally. She squeezed it close, inhaling the musky scent of The Prince that still lingered. She looked up with grateful eyes, only to find that he had already moved across the stage to continue his routine. Of course, she reminded herself, he couldn't make it too obvious that he favored her.

Hugging his shirt, Bulma returned to her seat and continued to watch as The Prince danced. Each movement felt more like an invitation. When he tore off his pants, all that remained was the tiniest pair of briefs that left little to the imagination. Bulma stared at the bulge between his legs that begged to be freed, to be stroked, to be lavished by her mouth. She was practically drooling as he finished his routine with a few more indecent thrusts.

The lights went dark and the female patrons continued to cheer. Bulma took another sniff of the shirt in her hands, relishing its masculine smell. It would be another treasure to add to her collection of Prince related items.

* * *

Bulma was out at brunch with Chi Chi and Lazuli, nursing a hangover by drinking another mimosa. Going to Temptations so often seemed to also accelerate her drinking habits. She felt like always having a cocktail in her hand made her look less conspicuous, but the near nightly drinking had definitely taken its toll.

"Bulma, are you even listening?"

"What?" the bluenette refocused on her friends. "Sorry I just zoned out for a sec."

Lazuli rolled her eyes, "Well I was saying I wanted to set you up with a friend of Krillin's, ya know like a blind date. You've kind of been moping around ever since you and Yamcha broke up. You need to get back out there! Maybe not a boyfriend, but at least get some dick!"

Bulma immediately frowned, she wasn't interested in any other man besides The Prince. In fact, the idea of being with anyone else (especially sexually) was borderline repulsing. What could they possibly offer that she didn't already have?

"Actually, I think I'll pass," Bulma said with a shrug and a neutral expression. Sure, she and The Prince hadn't officially decided they were an item, but she was patient. They were meant to be together, she knew it and he must know it, too.

"Why?" Chi Chi asked, "You gotta put yourself out there, if you really want to move on."

"Yeah, Bulma, this guy is a _doctor_," Lazuli added raising her eyebrows, as if this new information would make him more appealing. It wasn't like Bulma needed to marry rich, she had a trust fund and a lucrative career as an engineer at her family's company.

"You guys," Bulma sighed, "it's not that I don't want to date anyone new, it's that… I'm actually… already seeing someone…" Her voice grew quieted with each word, unsure if she was ready to tell her friends about her relationship with The Prince.

"Um, excuse me!" Chi Chi squealed excitedly, "Why would you hide this from us!? Oh my gosh!"

"Yeah!" Lazuli smiled, "tell us about him!" Her friends looked at Bulma with wide eyes, eager to hear all the information about her new beau.

"Girls! Girls! Just chill, okay?" Bulma began, her skin feeling warm from their expectant gaze, "I didn't tell you guys because... it's just really new, ya know? ...I didn't want to jinx it." Chi Chi and Lazuli seemed to accept her lie, and the tension in her body lessened.

"Well at least tell us his name!" Chi Chi begged and it was as if her friend unwittingly dumped a bucket of ice water on her head. _His name?_ For the first time, it occurred to Bulma that she didn't know The Prince's actual name.

Her insecurity masked itself in defensiveness, "I told you, I'll tell you about him when I'm ready! Kami, you guys are so nosy!" Bulma huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest, while her friends exchanged a look. Chi Chi was confused whereas Lazuli was more annoyed.

"Well fuck, sorry we asked," the blonde muttered sarcastically.

"You know what, I just remembered I have somewhere to be." Bulma stood chugging down the last of her mimosa before tossing some money onto the table. "I'll catch you guys another time."

After Bulma exited the restaurant, Chi Chi piped up, "Um, is it just me or is Bulma being really weird?" She looked at her friend with a questioning eyebrow raised and concern lacing her tone, but Lazuli only gave a shrug in return.


	4. Day 4: Breath on the Neck

The night after brunch, Bulma found herself at Temptations yet again. But this time she was frustrated, and not just sexually. She couldn't believe Chi Chi and Lazuli tried to set her up on a blind date, as if she was so desperate and lonely to sleep with a guy she didn't even know.

Bulma sipped her drink angrily, her annoyance resurfacing as she recalled the conversation with them. It was like they were trying to delegitimize her relationship with The Prince by asking stupid questions. Maybe she didn't know everything about him, but that didn't change what they had!

Tonight, Bulma was determined to talk to him, and she would find out his real name. Her plan was to meet up with him in his dressing room after his performance, she would praise him and then casually ask what his name was. Perfect. Simple. Easier said than done.

After she watched his performance (he was spectacular as always), she cautiously made her way to the stage door that she had exited her first night at Temptations, figuring it must lead to her destination. Her hand gave the knob a slight twist, her eyes widened in pleasant surprise as the door opened and she let herself in, only to walk into a brick wall of a man stationed at the door.

"Can I help you?" he asked, his tone matching his apathetic face.

"Um," Bulma hesitated. "I'm here to see The Prince," she said meekly.

"Nice try, girly. Only invited guests can come backstage." He began pushing her out the door, and she frantically gripped the doorframe.

"No wait!" she called pathetically, "I just need to talk to him real quick."

"Sorry, that's a no can do." He slammed the door behind her and Bulma sighed in defeat. She would definitely need to reevaluate her strategy.

With nothing left to do, she headed home and dove into bed. Surely, if The Prince had seen her he would have invited her backstage, Bulma thought as she drifted to sleep.

After she watched his performance (he was spectacular as always), she confidently made her way to the stage door that she had exited her first night at Temptations, figuring it must lead to her destination. Her hand gave the knob a slight twist, when the door opened, she left herself in, only to walk into a brick wall of a man stationed at the door.

"Can I help you?" he asked his tone matching his apathetic face.

"I'm here to see The Prince," she asserted.

"Nice try girly. Only invited guests can come backstage." He began pushing her out the door, when The Prince walked by.

"No wait!" he called, "She's with me." The Prince jogged up to the pair and he smirked at Bulma as he offered her his hand. The security guard nodded and backed away, allowing Bulma to pass as The Prince led her deeper into backstage.

"I was wondering when you'd come visit me," he husked, holding her hand tightly as they approached his dressing room. The was door labeled with his name in thick, bold letters. Her heart fluttered as he opened it and invited her inside.

She only had a moment to observe his dwelling before The Prince had her pushed up against the door. A hand tangled into her hair as his hungry lips thrust onto hers, kissing her with fervor that she enthusiastically reciprocated. She moaned at the loss as his mouth left hers to trace down her jaw. "What did you think of my performance tonight?" he breathed against her neck. Her eyes fluttered closed as his hands roved her curves, grasping at her hips.

"It was alright," she teased, gasping as he bit her in response. "I mean it was good," she corrected with a giggle. He growled still unsatisfied, as his firm body pinned her against the door. He trailed kisses up to her ear.

"Is there anything I can do…" he began in a suggestive whisper, his hips grinding into her core, making her ache with need, "to improve your opinion?" Bulma could feel his arousal against her stomach. Deciding to give up her nonchalant charade, her hands eagerly grasped at his waistband. With a tug she freed his proud erection, and he sighed as her hand wrapped around him, stroking his length.

He leaned in to capture her lips once more in his lustful kiss. Her mouth parted to grant him access and she could taste the desire on his tongue. The fiery passion he exuded only served to heighten her arousal. Bulma ceased her movements to help him undress her. She paused as she stood naked in front of The Prince but instead of nervous, she felt empowered by the way his gaze admired her body.

He knelt before her, her stomach doing flips as his mouth edged closer to her center. He watched her with dark eyes as she tossed her head back, crying out in pleasure as he began lapping at her core with his hot tongue.

"You're already so wet," he husked against her skin. Her only response was a breathy moan, as her hands clenched his coarse hair. She could feel his gaze watching her face contort in pleasure as he found a steady rhythm circling her clit. The tension in her belly was mounting. Her legs began to tremble as he pushed her over the edge. She cried his name as his mouth continued to work her, prolonging her climax until she pushed him away unable to handle his relentless assault on her oversensitive bud.

She leaned back against the door for support as she attempted to catch her breath, her body thrumming in satisfaction. But The Prince wasn't done. He stood, grasping her thighs as he hoisted her up. Her legs wrapped around him as he positioned himself at her entrance.

"Fuck," they cried in unison as he sheathed himself inside her, filling her to her limit. "You're so big," she moaned as he pulled out before thrusting back in. He held Bulma against the wall as he found his pace, groaning in gratification each time he slid into her wet slit. Her hands scratched at the hairs at the nape of his neck and clawed down his muscular back, just looking for something to hold on to as he ruthlessly pounded into her.

The knocking of her body against the thin wall surely alerted others of their lewd activities. That familiar, delicious tension began coiling in her stomach when Bulma woke with a jolt, twisted up in bedsheets and panting. She settled back onto her pillow with a sigh. A smile graced her lips as she saw her dream as more of a possibility than a fantasy. Now more than ever, she was determined to talk to The Prince.


	5. Day 5: Hot and Sweaty

Bulma had rushed in and over to the bar eager to grab a drink before The Prince's performance that night. She was running late due to a stupid deadline that had her staying past her normal work hours. As she anxiously checked the time on the way out of the building, several of her employees stopped her to chat and invite her to their happy hour.

Was everyone trying to get in her way? Like how many times does she have to say no? She has better things to do than drink socially with her colleagues. Tonight would be the night she finally talked to The Prince.

She leaned against the counter, watching Tien as he poured a concoction of alcohol into a cocktail shaker. Bulma's eye twitched in frustration. Could he move any slower? If she didn't get her drink in the next two seconds, she wouldn't have time to find a seat. Then she'd be forced to watch The Prince dance from a distance (it was always so much better up close).

When the lights went dim and the announcer's deep voice introduced The Prince, she plopped onto a barstool in defeat. Maybe a different vantage point wouldn't be the end of the world.

Bulma perked up suddenly when an unfamiliar track began to play. A new routine? It was like The Prince knew exactly how to brighten her otherwise awful day.

The other patrons cheered loudly as the curtain drew open, Bulma noticed a particularly boisterous table of women seated at the end of the catwalk. The bright lights focused on him and The Prince strolled onto the stage in nothing but a pair of blue jeans that hung sinfully off his hips.

The Prince began to dance to the upbeat music, his tantalizing abs flexing with each body roll. All eyes in the room were glued to him as he debuted his new moves, each more provocative than the last. Bulma licked her lips as she watched, it wasn't hard to imagine him using those same moves as she lay naked beneath him.

His routine was a bit more aerobic than usual, leaving his muscled physique hot and glistening with sweat. He sauntered to the end of the catwalk and posed, his labored breath evident in the heavy rise and fall of his brawny chest. The Prince ran a hand through his thick, black hair and flashed the audience one of his signature smirks, before he jumped off the stage. The women all erupted into shrieks of delight, waving their hands to get his attention.

Bulma's eyes widened. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

But her worst fears were confirmed when a second spotlight shined on one of the girls at the front table. Her friends hooted in excitement and shoved her toward him.

Bulma watched in abject horror as The Prince approached the girl caught in the spotlight. A lump formed in her throat that she just couldn't swallow. He grabbed her hands and placed them around his neck, before he rocked his hips with hers, keeping in time with the music.

Bulma wanted to look away but she couldn't, forcing herself to witness The Prince dancing with this other girl, touching her, gazing at her with those dark eyes she had thought were reserved only for her. The girl's stupid high pitched giggles rang in her ears as Bulma watched him pull her close and whisper something to her. She had never felt so betrayed, so enraged.

She huffed, finally turning away from the stage as the music died out and The Prince retreated backstage. Bulma couldn't believe what she had just endured. Was he punishing her for not paying him enough attention? Surely that couldn't be it, she was always here to support him. It must be that harpy's doing, she tricked him.

Bulma was still sitting up at the bar, when the little trollop The Prince pulled up on stage came by to pick up her free t-shirt. She was wearing a white sash across her body, printed in gold, cursive letters was 'bride'. On her head was a small tiara with a short veil, that Bulma found tacky. Her shoes were tacky too.

Actually everything about this girl was totally unremarkable, how she could've possibly conned The Prince into bringing her onstage was beyond reason. Plus, if she's getting married why would she even be seeking the attention of another man.

What a whore.

"I feel bad for the guy marrying _you_," she mumbled into her drink.

The girl accepted her t-shirt from the bartender, before she turned her horrified gaze to Bulma. "I beg your pardon?"

"I _said_ I feel bad for the sad sap who is marrying a _whore_ like you!" Bulma slammed her empty drink down on the bar and glared at the man-stealing floozy. Her features were pulled into a nasty, jealous scowl and blue eyes burned with contempt.

"What is your problem?" the affronted girl spat. As she spoke, three other girls with similar sashes across their bodies approached. Their excitement about their bride getting pulled up on stage dissolved as they noticed the tension between her and the bluenette at the bar.

"What's your problem?" Bulma parroted, mocking her in an annoying high pitched imitation of the girl's voice. "If you stay away from The Prince, we won't have a problem."

"Okay, you need to chill," sassed a redhead bridesmaid.

"No one was talking to you, fire crotch!" Bulma snapped. The girl's mouth gaped open in offense. When her momentary shock wore off, she lunged at Bulma but the other bridesmaids held her back.

"Ladies! Let's all just calm down!" Tien hollered as he was fixing to hop over the bar to break up a cat fight.

"Just tell me how you tricked The Prince!" Bulma was screaming now, completely uncaring of the eyes her volume attracted.

"Can someone just get this psycho bitch away from me!?" The bride called with disgust.

"You're just a fucking slut!" she shouted. Even over the music, the other patrons took notice of the commotion and stared at the scene like they were watching a train wreck. "Sorry you can't handle someone calling you out on it!"

"You're insane!" the bride shrieked. Bulma was fuming, her jealousy bubbled into near violence as she imagined breaking her cocktail's glass on the bar counter and stabbing the shards into that dumb bitch's throat.

Bulma felt a large firm hand grab her by the arm, pulling her back down to reality. She turned to find the large bald man who usually watches the front door.

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." His voice was deep and serious, leaving no room for discussion. Bulma wanted to protest. She wanted to see The Prince tonight and ask him why he would dance with another woman, but the security guard started pulling her towards the door and she was too weak to resist.

Bulma grumbled angrily as she was escorted to the door. She glanced behind her at the girls, who were still standing and the bar and looking especially smug now that she was being kicked out. "I hope you bitches die!" she shouted at them.

Her escort tightened his grip on her arm, "you better stop, or else you'll be banned from coming back here."

That shut her up.


	6. Day 6: Use Your Teeth

She had waited three days before coming back to Temptations, hoping everything would blow over. Bulma had planned on staying away for a whole week, but after she missed three of his performances her heart ached, like he was her drug and she was going through withdrawals. It had become a habit of hers to go after work, and without his performances to look forward to her days felt so drab.

Bulma was seated alone at one of the cocktail tables in the back of the main showroom, hoping to be as inconspicuous as possible. Her blue eyes scanned the place, paranoid that she might get kicked out again before she got to see The Prince.

"Hi hun, can I get you something to drink?" a dark purple haired waitress asked with a bright smile.

"Hi yeah, can I get a dirty martini, with extra olives."

"Oh, I know you!"

Bulma blanched then averted her gaze, worried that she had been discovered. "No you don't."

"Yeah, you're a big fan of The Prince, huh? You're here most nights he performs." Bulma release the anxious breath she had been holding. Thank Kami, she was worried she would be recognized as 'the girl who wished death upon an entire bridal party'.

"Mmhmm," she nodded, 'a big fan' was kind of understatement but she wasn't going to argue.

"Have you ever gotten a private dance with him?" Bulma's eyes widened at the question, she hadn't even known that was an option. The waitress leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "I hear he's pretty kinky."

Bulma stood abruptly and stared at the purple haired woman, "How do I get a dance with him?"

The waitress blinked and stepped back in surprise, "um, just go talk to the hostess, she can see if he has room in his schedule."

Without another word, Bulma marched toward the hostess stand. "You don't want your martini then?" the waitress called, but she ignored her. Her full attention was focused on the task at hand. A private dance. Just her and The Prince.

After the hostess informed her that The Prince would have time in his schedule tonight, Bulma was handed a clipboard with a form for her to fill out and sign. She reviewed the document that asked for requests and/or preferences. She raised an eyebrow at the options for 'Costume Preference', though she knew he looked good in everything, she checked the box saying 'Other' and wrote in 'The Prince, as himself' on the line provided. She didn't want him to pretend, it would be the first time they got to be truly alone.

Bulma nervously looked around before checking the box 'Light Bondage' under kinks, thinking back to The Prince in his cop costume with those handcuffs. Reading through the other options, she wasn't even sure what some of them meant, but ended up checking off a few more that seemed interesting.

She skimmed over the block of text before the signature line. 'Entertainment purposes only' blah blah, 'not an escort service' blah blah, 'harassment of any kind' blah. Whatever, she signed the page, too eager to see The Prince privately to pay attention to the form's fine print.

Bulma brought the clipboard back to the hostess, who skimmed it over and smiled. "If you'll go ahead and follow me, I can take you back to your private room." She followed the girl through a dimly lit hall before she opened a door and gestured for Bulma to go inside.

"Go ahead and make yourself comfortable, he'll be with you in a few minutes." Bulma heard the door close but didn't bother to turn around, too interested in inspecting the private room. Frankly, she was disappointed there was no bed. There was, however, a velvet couch similar to those in the VIP booths in the main showroom. The other furnishings were sparse, but the color palette and warm lighting still made the room feel luxurious.

She made her way over to the bottle of champagne that sat in an ice bucket and poured herself a glass. One of the options on the form had been to just sit and have a conversation with the performer of your choice, which to Bulma seemed a bit odd. She'd rather have his body do all the talking.

Leaning back on the arm of the sofa, she sipped her bubbly drink as she stared at the door. She contemplated checking the time on her phone, the hostess had said it would only be a few minutes, but it was approaching near eternity that Bulma had been waiting. At that thought, the door pushed open.

Setting down her champagne flute on the small end table, she anxiously stood to greet him. Her heart rate quickened at the sight of The Prince wearing only a robe. The letter 'V' embroidered on the breast distracted Bulma from noticing what was twisted up in his hand.

"Hi," she peeped shyly.

He approached her slowly, with panther like grace. "Hey," he replied coolly. She swallowed nervously, the way he looked at her made her feel like his next meal, like he would devour her any second.

"Turn around." Bulma obeyed without question, knowing that she would do just about anything The Prince wanted at this point. She felt him walk up closely behind her, his breath tickled the nape of her neck as his fingers traced down her arms sending pleasant shivers up her spine. "Tell me if it's too tight," he whispered, and she wasn't sure what he meant until her wrists were pulled together and being tied with a ribbon of sorts.

Once she was tightly bound, he spun her around to face him, they locked eyes and Bulma was sure she would melt from the heat in his gaze. Her heart thumped against her chest in nervous excitement, finally she was alone with The Prince. All those dreams were so close to becoming reality.

She was pulled out of her reverie as he gave her a soft push, prompting her to sit down on the couch. It was slightly uncomfortable sitting on her hands but Bulma — now at eye level with his waist — was too consumed with resentment for the robe that was obstructing her view. She imagined tasting his cock, him fucking her mouth, practically salivating at the potential this private room had. Why hadn't she done this sooner?**  
**  
The Prince grabbed her forgotten glass of champagne and casually downed it in one go. With two fingers under her chin, he pushed her face up to meet his dark gaze once more. "Tell me what you want," he commanded. Bulma swallowed, too shy to tell him what she'd actually been thinking, she settled on something a little more tame. "I want you to take off your robe."

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "You take it off." A hint of a challenge laced in his flirtatious voice.

"My..." Bulma pulled against her restraints. "I can't move my hands," her reply nearly came out as a whimper.

"Then use your teeth." Bulma's eyes lit up in surprise realizing he was dead serious. With a nervous flitter in her stomach, Bulma leaned forward and captured the end of his robe's tie with a bite. His masculine scent invaded her senses, reminding her that this was, in fact, reality and that she was so tantalizingly close to The Prince.

She looked up and they maintained eye contact for a tense moment, his near black eyes boring into hers. Bulma tried to mirror the lust that radiated off of him as she pulled her head to the side, untying the knot deliberately slow. The edges of his robe slipped apart and framed his delicious abs. The silky fabric clashed with the hard planes of his body and the V of his hips dove into a pair of tight black briefs that drew her gaze downward.

She inhaled deeply as she resisted the urge to lick the the finely sculpted ridges of his stomach. With sensual slowness he removed his robe, revealing smooth, rock hard muscles covered in tanned skin. The room bathed him in warm light making him resemble a bronze statue.

The music playing in the room contrasted what he usually performed to, the mostly high energy, sometimes theatrical songs that got crowds excited. The sounds filling Bulma's ears were surely an excerpt from someone's baby making playlist, because it was music people fuck to.

Bulma bit her lip as she felt the pressure of him leaning into the couch behind her. She was consumed by the intensity of his gaze as he sank over her body, moving salaciously to the beat of the music. Bulma lifted her face towards him, eyes lidded and burning with desire as he continued his ministrations over her. He lowered his head to ghost his lips over her skin, leaving a blazing trail in its wake. She stifled a moan as his breath tickled her neck.

He taunted her, his perfect body within reach had her hands not been bound. She pulled at the restraints, her fingers itching to touch him.

"I want you to touch me," she begged breathlessly. He smirked before his hands descended to her knees, spreading her legs before sliding up her thighs. Bent over, they were face to face, and she noticed the mischief in his eyes. Bulma quivered in anticipation as his hands approached her center, then nearly cried out in frustration when he diverted his path gripping on to her hips instead.

Every touch was such a tease, providing just enough to get her worked up, but never satisfied. His hands continued their path gliding up her arms, until his fingers slid into her hair. He tilted her head up, forcing her to make eye contact with his dark gaze, as he continued rocking his hips against hers. Her desire was reaching its boiling point. Bulma was hot, overwhelmed, and her body demanded gratification.

"Prince…" she whispered, but no reply.

"Prince…" she repeated, a little louder this time, but he continued without acknowledging her.

"PRINCE!"

"Yes?" he smirked as if he knew he was driving her crazy.

"Please…" she whimpered, "just fuck me! I'll do anything!" The throbbing need in her core was becoming unbearable. To feel him so close, yet he wouldn't take it any farther was practically torture. "I'll give you money if that's what you want! You can do anything you want to me!" Her voice grew more desperate with every word.

When he didn't immediately respond it was as if all the tension in her body erupted into uncontrollable word vomit. "Fuck! I need you inside me. You're so fucking hot! I just want run my tongue all over your body. I want you to choke me while we fuck like fucking animals." The Prince lifted an intrigued eyebrow. "I want you to spank me like a filthy whore while I ride your cock. Kami," she groaned, "I want to feel you come inside me or come in my mouth or, fuck, you can come wherever you fucking want."

Her words caught in her throat when Bulma realized he wasn't touching her anymore. "Prince?" she called weakly. She nervously met his eyes, his usual sultry expression had shifted to… surprise? amusement?

"You are one vulgar woman," he chuckled.

Bulma flushed scarlet, the mortification finally setting in. "I… uh…" she tried to stutter out some kind of justification, maybe an apology. But she paused when he looked up as if noticing something. Bulma concentrated wondering if maybe he had heard something, then realization struck her as he straightened up. The music had stopped.

"That's my cue." He picked up his discarded robe and put it on as he made his way toward the door. "Maybe I'll see you again sometime," he said with a wink.

"Wait! Don't go!" she called pathetically, but before the words could escape her lips he was out the door. Bulma fell to the side and buried her face into the couch cushion. The embarrassment and discontent served to dampen her previously intense arousal.

She jolted up when she felt a hand on her shoulder, thinking The Prince had returned. A new wave of disappointment struck when she was met with the smiling face of the hostess. "Your time is up," she stated the obvious in a sweet voice.


	7. Day 7: Soaked Panties

Bulma was running errands with no plans to go to Temptations that day. With her frequent visits she had deduced The Prince didn't perform on Thursdays, so what would even be the point in going. Instead, Bulma was on her way to the grocery store. She liked to shop at this place that boasted its healthy options. Even though she tended to favor a lot of junk food, it made her feel less guilty because everything there claimed to be organic.

She took a moment to admire the bouquets of fresh flowers for sale near the front door, before making her way to the breakfast food aisle to grab a box of her favorite sugary cereal. Bulma picked up a hand basket to carry her groceries in and checked the list she made on her phone.

When she rounded the corner to the breakfast food isle, Bulma nearly fainted when she spotted the object of her obsession thoroughly inspecting the ingredients listed on a box of oatmeal. She quickly turned to face the food lined shelves, as to not be so obvious when she stared at him through the corner of her eye.

The Prince was wearing navy track pants, a grey hoodie, and sneakers with a small duffle bag hanging off his shoulder and a grocery basket in the opposite hand. She could hardly believe how _normal_ he looked.

Obviously, Bulma knew he didn't spend all his time at Temptations, but she had never really imagined him doing anything else. Why would she think a sex god with panty soaking dance moves would do real people stuff like buy his own groceries?

When he returned the oatmeal to the shelf, Bulma started hyperventilating, worried he would walk away and she would miss her chance to talk to him. She sighed in relief as he picked up a different box and started reading the ingredients on that one. She steeled herself before taking a somewhat confident step toward him, it was now or never.

Bulma tried to remain calm, but suddenly became self-conscious as she eyed the contents of his basket. It was filled with mostly vegetables, whereas the only thing in her basket was probably the least healthy product in this stupid health food store. The closer she got the more nervous she became. Would he judge her? She decided to speak before she could chicken out.

"You look good with your clothes on."

Her heart skipped a beat as he turned and their eyes met, but then it finally registered what she had actually just said to him. Her eyes widened in mortification and she opened her mouth to speak, to say something that wasn't so stupid, but nothing would come out. She didn't know how to take something like the back (not that she didn't mean it).

"Thanks, I guess," he replied with a chuckle. His casual response allowing Bulma to actually breathe again. "So, you're familiar with my work I presume?"

"Oh, more than familiar," Bulma nodded enthusiastically. He smirked, clearly amused by the response, before he tilted his head and his eyes filled with recognition.

"I remember you," he stated and it was as if a hurricane of butterflies danced in Bulma's stomach. He remembered her! He set down the oatmeal he had been inspecting before he continued, "Yeah, that private dance from other day, right?"

Bulma flushed with embarrassment as she recalled her behavior from the other night. She forced out a laugh before responding, "Yeah… I'm sorry I said I would pay you to have sex with me. I-I wasn't trying to insinuate you're a prostitute or anything!"

The Prince raised his eyebrows at her and she worried that was the wrong thing to say. "Not that there's anything wrong with making money off of your body!"

Again, he didn't respond, seemingly enjoying watching her squirm. She desperately wanted to change the subject.

"Um, so do you workout?" she asked, pointing to the athletic duffle he was carrying. As soon as the words left her lips, Bulma mentally face palmed. Of course The Prince works out, he's jacked!

In most aspects of her life, Bulma had been the picture of confidence, so how was it that she turned into complete putty whenever she was within a ten foot radius of this man?

"Mmhmm," The Prince hummed in the affirmative. He smiled, clearly fighting a laugh that wanted to escape his lips. "As fun as this conversation has been, I have to go call someone to fix my kitchen sink." He looked like he was about to walk away and Bulma began to panic, trying to think of anything to make him stay.

"I can fix it!" she blurted.

"_You're_ a plumber?" he asked unconvinced.

"Well no," Bulma replied, "I'm actually an engineer." He raised his an eyebrow in surprise. "I mean, I'm pretty handy with tools and if it's something simple, I bet I could take care of it for you."

He seemed to consider her offer, so Bulma added "I'll do it for free!" hoping that would really sell her. She was giddy at the prospect of going to the Prince's actual home. Now that she acknowledged him as a real person, she found herself curious about all aspects of his life.

"Yeah, okay," he finally said. "Were you done with your shopping?"

Bulma looked down at her near empty basket, but decided to forgo the other dozen items on her grocery list. Ceasing the opportunity to go with The Prince, was worth coming back to the store another time. "Yup, all done!"

"Alright, let's go checkout then." He began walking towards the front of the store and Bulma followed close behind with a grin on her face.

"By the way, what's your real name?"

He turned over his shoulder to look at her and gave her one of his signature smirks. Bulma thought for sure she was going to melt. "Vegeta," he answered simply.

Vegeta unloaded his items onto the conveyor belt and the female cashier began to check him out, in more than one sense of the phrase. Bulma's palm twitched as the girl openly gawked at him, her green eyes grating over The Prince approvingly. He barely reacted as if the cashier's giggles and obvious flirting was so completely normal. 'Be cool,' Bulma reminded herself as she gripped her hand basket with excessive force.

But her ire soon faded into amusement as Vegeta proceeded to pay for his groceries with single dollar bills. A smile tugged at her lips, knowing exactly where he got them. She had never considered what happens to the money stuffed into a stripper's underwear, apparently it paid for overpriced organic vegetables.

When he pulled out a reusable grocery bag from his gym duffle, Bulma found herself growing more impressed by him. Hunky, healthy, and cares about the environment? Damn, just get him a kitten and she would be begging him to have sex with her all over again.

The cashier didn't ring up Bulma's cereal with near the level of enthusiasm she had for the The Prince, but she didn't care. She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye, waiting patiently at the end of the aisle.

As they walked the few block's to Vegeta's high rise apartment, Bulma found that the conversation flowed a little easier. Outside Temptations, in the light of day, he didn't seem to radiate the same intensity that had made her so nervous before.

After a quick elevator ride, the pair was stepping into Vegeta's apartment. Her eyes eagerly scanned his space, surprised by how nice everything was. The apartment itself was very modern, the furnishings minimalistic and the decor very stylish, but still masculine.

She nodded her head in approval, "this place is really nice, you must make a lot of money."

Another mental facepalm. Bulma chided herself for her intrusive observation. Her nerves returned as she went to stutter out an apology, she didn't want him to think she was rude or ask her to leave, but he just snickered.

"I guess you could say that. I mean just the other day, you spent $300 to hangout with me for 30 minutes." Bulma almost snorted, 'hangout' what an innocent way to put it.

He rummaged through a closet as she continued to absorb her surroundings, wondering if a particular door was his bedroom.

"Do a lot of women get private dances with you?" she blurted out. Where was her filter? Did she even really want to know the answer to that?

Vegeta stood up with the small tool box he had retrieved, before he smirked, "None more memorable than you." She blushed then laughed nervously, remembering her lewd behavior. Not her proudest moment.

"So it's the kitchen sink," he informed her, nodding his head in its general direction. Bulma had almost forgot that's why she came over.

He led her to the offending plumbing and opened the lower cabinetry for her to inspect the sink's pipes. Kneeling down, Bulma gave them a stern look. The gears in her brain turned as she tried to solve the puzzle before her.

"I don't really know about this kind of stuff, but here's the tools that I have." His voice brought her attention back to him. She suddenly became aware he was standing an arm's length away and she was eye level with his waist.

Trying to steer gaze away from his manhood, Bulma accepted the small toolbox he handed to her. Everything inside was pretty basic, but if the issue was within her capabilities then they should do.

She crawled under the sink and got to work, quickly identifying the problem. She tried not to be disappointed when the sound of his footsteps had suggested he walked away. What did she think would happen? He'd sit and talk to her while the upper half of her body was tucked under his sink. Just ten minutes and a few tugs of a wrench later, Bulma had fixed the simple issue plaguing his plumbing.

"You're actually pretty hot."

His comment startled her and Bulma hit her head as she backed out from under the sink. She heard him wrong. She was for sure hallucinating.

Rubbing her bruised head, she turned to find him sitting relaxed at the breakfast bar. An elbow rested on the counter and a hand supported his chin as he watched her with dark eyes. Her pulse quickened as she recognized those eyes as the ones he made at her the night of Chi Chi's birthday party before pulling her up on stage.

She stood, still not commenting on what he said because she had obviously imagined it, and washed her hands in the newly fixed sink.

"So, you should be all goo—" her voice got lost in her throat as she felt his heated presence behind her. She turned to find herself captured between him and the counter. His hands planted firmly on either side.

She was frozen, flabbergasted by the sight of him, The Prince, admiring her body.

"Do you still want me?" he husked, his dark gaze still trained on her lips.

This was a dream. Right? It had to be.

Her brain practically malfunctioned, unable to form real words, she eagerly nodded. To that he leaned in even closer, his hands fell from the counter and landed on her slim waist. The feel of his heated touch nearly making her swoon.

He whispered into her ear, his sultry voice velvety smooth, "Do you still want to fuck like fucking animals?" Bulma gulped nervously, a faint blush danced over her cheeks as he parroted her words from their private dance.

"Yes, please," she squeaked breathlessly. He seemed to like that answer, he pulled back just enough that their noses nearly touched. Instinctually her hands slid up his chest to wrap around his neck, their gaze full of unspoken desire.

He pressed his lips against hers with surprising tenderness. The nervous tension in her body softened as he moved his mouth rhythmically against hers. Her fingers slipped into the hair at the nape of his neck, and he nearly groaned at the feeling of her softly scratching his scalp, pulling him closer, she deepened their kiss. Vegeta's grip drifted down, capturing a handful of her ass and giving it a playful squeeze.

Their tongues mingled as his hands continued their exploration. Bulma moaned into his mouth, it was so gratifying finally being kissed, being touched by the man she had pined after so long. He pulled her closer, and she relished the feeling of their bodies pressed together.

He began stepping backwards, dragging her with him. They broke their kiss momentarily as he tore off his sweatshirt, and like magnets her hands reached to feel the smooth muscles of his torso. Her exploration cut short as he pulled off her shirt. An anxious excitement bubbled in her stomach as the evidence of his arousal strained against his pants.

They gravitated toward his bedroom in a blur of clashing tongues and groping hands, a trail of clothing left in their wake. They parted momentarily and Vegeta pulled down his tight briefs, freeing his proud erection. Bulma gawked as his manhood, she had imagined him big, and he did not disappoint.

Her obvious approval only served to increase his confidence. Trailing down her sides, his thumbs slipped into the waistband of her panties, while Bulma devoured the sight of his perfectly sculpted muscles wrapped in delicious caramel skin.

As she stood there, nearly naked in front of him and his outrageous body with moves that make women scream, a sharp feeling of inadequacy stabbed her through the chest. Why would he even want her? Her, a lonely engineer that regularly got drunk at his workplace and hadn't been with a man in ages. How could he not be disappointed? He was a literal Adonis practically making women climax by looking at them.

"I…" she paused, pushing a hand against his chest. Vegeta's gaze lifted from her perky breasts to find hesitation written all over her face.

His hands froze and eyes grew wide, "I'm.. er… sorry?"

"No I… I just need a second." Bulma looked down in embarrassment and clenched her fists at her sides willing herself to get over this stupid insecurity. She was seconds away from having hot, passionate sex with The Prince - this is what dreams were made of!

"I shouldn't have been so.." he trailed off, retracting his hands slowly. She met his gaze finding him tense with uncertainty. His sudden awkwardness was oddly comforting, like he was actually fallible and maybe he, too, had his insecurities. After a few deep breaths, she realized Vegeta was reaching for his discarded pants.

"Don't you dare put your pants back on!" His hands halted in mock surrender. "I said I just need a second, and now I'm good."

"...Um... okay..."

With determination, Bulma pulled down her panties, revealing herself to him in offering. He just watched, still seemly unsure how to proceed. After she shattered his self-assured certainty, Bulma knew she need to show him her enthusiastic consent. Knowing no better way, she dropped to her knees in front of him, taking his hardened member in her hand.

He watched her intently as she stroked him a few times before leading him to her waiting mouth. Vegeta's breath hitched as she slowly dragged her tongue along his length. Bulma looked up to meet his smoldering gaze. She licked her lips and his cock twitched in response.

After shooting him a mischievous grin, her moist lips teased his sensitive head with a few kisses before taking him fully into her wet mouth. A moan escaped her lips as she tasted him, her eager tongue lavishing his hardness. A hand wrapped around the base of his shaft working in tandem with her mouth, the other grasping his firm ass. As Bulma bobbed up and down on his length, his hand reached into her hair guiding her to the perfect pace.

She gagged as she took him deep into her throat, his grip in her hair tightened as he let out a satisfied moan, his eyes closed succumbing to the sensations she provided. Bulma could hear his breathing grow more ragged, and she had to resist the small smile that tugged at her lips. Affecting a man like _The Prince_ in this way served to bolster her confidence. She felt him tense, his body going rigid as he neared his peak. Wanting to prolong their tryst and maybe torture him a little, Bulma pulled away to leave him on the edge. He groaned at the loss of her warmth, as she stood.

She pushed him down onto the bed and Vegeta smirked welcoming her silent command as she crawled on top to straddle him. His hands traced down the sides of her body, the soft touch caused her nipples to pebble in response. Bulma leaned forward a placed a soft kiss on his lips before she reached between their bodies, positioning him at her entrance. Vegeta growled, his hands gripped her thighs as she teased him with her wetness. She moaned and rubbed her clit with the tip of his cock, driving him wild with need.

They both sighed as she settled her hips down, taking every inch of his length inside her. Her hands found purchase on his firm chest as she adjusted to the pleasant stretch of his intrusion. Her head fell forward, a curtain of hair concealed her face. Bulma felt his grip leave her side, before his hand reached into her hair, brushing it away to look at her face.

His dark gaze, an unfamiliar combination of tenderness and burning hunger, spurred her on. She began grinding against him and his hips rocked up to meet hers. He was so deep, the sensation was nearly overwhelming. Her fingers clawed at his chest as she repeatedly lifted herself up before slamming back down. The sounds of moans mixed with labored breath echoed through the room.

A light sting resonated on her backside as he spanked her, encouraging her to quicken her pace. She began to ride him with desperate urgency, her breasts bouncing heavily to the grueling pace she set for herself. Each thrust increased the intense pressure building in her core. "Kami, you're so fucking sexy," he husked. She thought to reply, to say she felt the same about him, but when she opened her mouth a breathless moan escaped instead.

His hand had slipped between them and his mischievous fingers began playing with her swollen clit. Under his touch, Bulma could feel herself edging closer to her peak. Her nails dug deeper into his chest as he continued thrusting up into her with abandon. Their haggard breath intermingled as she leaned forward, his grip on her waist the only thing grounding her. The tension in her low belly continued to mount, coiling so tight it was almost painful.

She cried out when the pressure exploded into an earth shattering orgasm. As the waves of pleasure washed over her, she felt Vegeta spill himself inside her, her muscles convulsing around him. He let out a groan as his grip on her waist softened. She sighed collapsing onto him as she came down from her high.

They laid chest to chest silently for some moments, and Bulma revelled in the feeling of his warm, hard pecs against her soft breasts. The vigor of their love making left them covered a thin layer of sweat. With her head resting in the crook of his neck, she listened to his breath return to normal as his fingers traced lazy circles on her shoulder.

"So, what else did you say you wanted to do?"

* * *

A/N: You guys, strippers are people too.

Thank you so much for reading and commenting!

Follow me on twitter vegebul_soup or tumblr vegebulsoup


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